Bounded Pledge
by Danny Kielder
Summary: HIATUS. An Orc mercenary will always swear fealty for money and his own well being... Or was that truly what he'll only pledge for? Events will ensue and slowly he'll come to an understanding that the Nord really was quite different from the others. The question is: Will she come to understand him as well? An OC Romance story of love in the midst of Skyrim's civil war.
1. Another Day, Another Job Done

**Disclaimer: I do not own any familiar characters, settings and/or mostly everything in this story, nor do I have the consent from Bethesda to write this. For all intended purposes, I merely wish to entertain and play with their storyline without claiming Bethesda's work as my own.**

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**A/N: Hello to you people again! I got a lot of free time on my hands so I guess I should go into writing again :3**

**This story will be quite shorter (arounnddd 8-9 chapters less) than my first, TMTSTD, but I'm hoping it would be just as much (or hopefully more) enjoying. Also, this story also shares the same universe as TMTSTD and takes place many, many months before it's ending. Although this story, the storyline and the characters are independent from the former, I would suggest to read the first one to catch small glimpse of events that are taking place in my universe, as it would explain certain themes that surrounds this one as well. I can't explain everything in one go, so I'll just let my writing do the work.**

**This story is rated M just to be on the "sure" side of things.**

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**Chapter 1: Another Day, Another Job Done**

_There had been many stories and legends spread throughout Skyrim. As vast as it was, none could miss out on one of these tales the bards have told. It could be as simple as hidden treasure from two lovers separated from each other, or evil entities lurking in the shadows of a quaint little town. Many were enticed by these rumors and people tend to seek them out for their own. Adventurers far and wide gathered to pursue the course; others failed miserably, but some also succeeded. Either way, there were lessons gained from all of it. Whether it was for the benefit of one's self, or leading to one's downfall, it had changed the fate of the small or the many depending on the weight of the outcome._

_There was a tale though, that everybody knew. The prophecy of the Dragonborn. It had considered being one of the most talked about tales from tongues of gossipers and whisperers. Since the attack from Helgen, rumors spread like wildfire; just like that, the fate of all had changed drastically. The impasse of war dissolved as opportunity struck them like a lightning bolt. With the coming of the legend, they pulled many feats in order for them to gain the Dragonborn into their ranks. But, such as fate would consider it, the legend had to choose only one side…_

_Legends, as they called it, were very persuading. That conviction strengthened the hearts of the many in order for them to gain the upper hand against their enemies. As such, they brought about those things to theirs, as many as possible. Swords of exceptional quality, items of great importance; even proud soldiers and mercenaries were hired for the cause._

_However, delving deeper within these folklores that have been tirelessly said, there was a secret that was kept hidden in the eyes of the many. None knows the truth, except for some worthy people in Markarth and its trusted companions._

_This is also why I ventured into this foreign territory to explore the mysteries within…_

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"Hah!" An Orsimer bellowed within the streets of Markarth. A couple of bystanders took notice and tilted their heads towards the orc. He was holding up a book with his gruff hands, primarily a diary of a person whom they _took care _of. It was actually a request from the Hold's Jarl: to deal with a person who was threatening the safety of the Reach. This means the rewards were far beyond the norm of their grasp.

"Give me that." His fellow companion quickly snatched it off his hands. It may have been awkward to onlookers (and it captured the attention of everybody so quickly), but he was of Nord kin. To imagine a Nord and an Orc working together was quite baffling, especially in these troubled times. Sure that the Empire already accepted the kind of Orsimers to the favor of their services in the Imperial Legion, but this was clearly no Empire land. This was Skyrim; it ruled boiling blood of Nord men wanting their freedom, such as the civil war's concerned. They had each other's throats for months now, the Legion and the Stormcloaks, and none will tire unless the other simply gives it up.

"You'll ruin the proof of the deed." He sighed, almost as if guilty in continuing the conversation.

The Orsimer huffed in exasperation. "As if the blood on the cover hadn't already spoiled it." His intimidating glare could've spooked his companion then and there. Added with his towering height and his huge mass of muscles in his arms, everybody would. But he still remained complacent, as if he was already used to his ill-temperedness.

"Well, I don't know if you would take it as a complement, but everything you touch gets destroyed, Torguk." He replied.

The Orsimer only let out a grunt deep within his chest and moved forward.

Torguk was an orc with dark-green, leathery hide of a skin and always the fierce look on his yellow-pupil eyes. He had two large tusks on each end of his mouth, one was heavily crooked. He bore clan markings on his face, but his was not really a typical painting or dust etched on his face, like those of his kinsmen. His was more of a scar; markings purposely removed for some unknown purpose. It trailed from the corner of his eyelids to his cheek and then two more trails followed foot closer to his nose, like three teardrops from either sides of his face. A permanent teardrop.

His companion put the book on one of his many pockets of his fur armor. He tugged his trusty daggers from his waist and continued on.

"I say, I never expected the Jarl would lend aid on mercenaries like us. I thought it would be some of his delegates to do his bidding."

"If there's money, I don't care." Torguk said simply.

Maeric only shook his head in disappointment. Like his companion, he too was very different from his kin. Nords were supposed to be bulky and burly, made for war and all that. But he was quite thin and not really meant for fighting. What he lacks in strength though compensates with his cunning and agility. He's a well endowed thief; even the Thieves Guild knows about his infamous reputation, although he never thought of joining them.

The two were partner mercenaries. If professional brigands were needed to sack merchant caravans, steal from the rich or do a bit of _cleaning_, they're the ones summoned. Of course, with a hefty price. What they do though is a guaranteed success, as Maeric would've put it. They've never backed out on a task yet that has been given to them.

They were close to Understone Keep, Markath's stronghold. The city itself was renowned for its stone walls and ancient cultural structures. As they reached closer to the keep, they were instantly halted by the guards.

"None can enter the palace doors without permission from the Jarl."

_Of course,_ Maeric thought.

If it were some common folk with common clothes, they would've been let through. With them wearing daggers and axes, it would be safe to assume that they were no mere civilians from the town. Nonetheless Maeric tried to persuade him.

"We're here under the request of the Jarl."

"Is there paperwork then?"

Torguk looked at his partner.

"No."

"Then you aren't allowed to enter."

"But we _do_—"

A person approached them from behind. The guards saluted at him. It was Raerek, steward of Markarth's Jarl.

"Excuse them." He waved his hand dismissively. "We never came here and you saw nothing. Understood?" He whispered softly to the guards.

The guards look appalled, but nodded in an instant.

"Come, this way."

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"It is quite the predicament to see you both. I was just about to meet with the Jarl." He walked casually along the great hall of the Keep. "This way please." His voice echoed as he guided them along as they headed left.

In the entrance itself, one could already see the throne of the Jarl and judging by no one sitting there, the Jarl wasn't present at the moment.

Rows of guards were stationed at every corner and edge of the Keep itself. It was supposed to be somehow dull where none would've spoke, not even the guards or the servants. The closed walls somehow made every footstep echo throughout the great hall.

But today, it was different. The banners were taken from the storage and brushed cleanly to hang above the pillars of the Keep. Servants and workers were wandering about scrubbing, cleaning and making sure everything is perfect for the events for tonight. The whole Keep itself was bustling from the people that were in there.

No sooner than their tour (and ignoring most of their surroundings from then on), they headed the second floor and into the Jarl's chambers itself. The entrance was actually open, but a guard was stationed at it.

_Dwemers are never fond of doors, are they?_

Raerek nodded at the guard, which he also responded in return. He turned sideways, as if signalling them to pass through.

Inside they saw the Jarl, scribbling something in a parchment. Raerek let out a small cough to alert him. The Jarl turned around.

"Ah, Raerek." He then looked at the two mercenaries behind him. His eyes widened in surprise to see them both. "And you two. How fares the bounty?" He stood up and approached the group. He lent out a hand and Maeric shook it. He was the better one doing the discussions, anyways.

"The deed is done, sire. We have his journal to prove it." He pulled out the book from his pockets and lent it to him.

"Good, good. That hermit was a Forsworn conspirator and we couldn't afford taking chances with him."

"Yes. We have read a few — if you don't mind — of his chapters and what you say _is_ true." Maeric emphasized.

"It's fine. I trusted you both did your job, and you've done it well. I'm thinking you'll be expecting the reward soon?"

Maeric looked at Torguk.

"Well, we don't have anything to do for tonight, and we really need the rest…"

"Then it's settled. In the meantime, I would like to invite you on the festivities later. To celebrate the victory for claiming Fort Dunstad."

_Ah yes, the war._

For many years, the two factions have gone to a standstill. Maeric noticed that. Neither were giving up in the past, but ever since the arrival of the Dragonborn, the impasse was dissolved instantly. At first, the Imperials were in distraught as they've heard the news that the Dragonborn had joined the Stormcloaks. In the series of months, morale had been low and the chances deemed impossible already. In the events of the search of the Jagged Crown though, the most wonderful news arrived. It appears that the Dragonborn betrayed Ulfric (the Traitor King) and took the Crown for himself and made his way to Solitude. From that moment on, he became part of the Imperials and never wavered since.

"We will surely be there."

"Yes, yes," Raerik interrupted. "Now at the matter of hand, sire..." He nodded at the two.

And that was their cue to actually leave.

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"Wouldn't that be great, Torguk?" Maeric's voice echoed throughout the halls as they were about to leave and head to Silver-Blood Inn. "The party, the drinks, the _women_. Oh, Divines know we at least earned this right to enjoy." He smirked.

"And I'll enjoy the mead here." Torguk replied.

"There you go, big guy." He let out a hearty laugh. "It's been a while since you actually pushed yourself to relish the free time we have."

Torguk only huffed. As they entered sunlight again, Torguk stretched out his systems and let out a yawn. He was feeling tired from the two months of no rest. Requests and bounties have sprung about one after another and they have no choice but to accept it. Thankfully, nothing really spurred at the moment and it was high time for them to just relax for a while.

"Yeah, I guess so too." Torguk mumbled in response.

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_At the same time…_

"How is the preparation, Raerik?" Jarl Igmund asked his loyal steward, a worried look etched on his face.

"Absolutely well, sire. The guards are stationed everywhere and I'm sure that everything will go according to plan." The steward assured him.

"Good, good…" He fell in silence for a while, pacing back and forth in random intervals. It was only for a few moments until he spoke again. "Have you… talked to her yet?" His face was more anxious as to was before.

"Yes, Jarl Igmund. She was very pleased by the news that she could at least perform for the town tonight." He smiled at the Jarl.

"Very good… very good, indeed."

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**A/N: So, how was it? Reviews/Follows are always welcome and I'd like the opportunity to know all of your opinions about me or the story. Hope you enjoy! Next one will come out soon.**


	2. Once In A Blue Moon

**Chapter 2: Once In A Blue Moon**

_Silver-Blood Inn_

On a stony table of the inn there sat the Orsimer, Torguk. There were already about half a dozen empty tankards on the table and Torguk still kept on chugging his next. It was already around nightfall by that time and the inn was practically empty, even the Innkeeper was away to spend the night in the gallant Hall; his assistant was manning the counter.

It was only after a few minutes that a person came up behind him and called out his name.

"Torguk, we'll be late."

He groaned; his hoarse voice reverberated from his chest. He chugged the last pint or two from his drink and banged the tankard on the table.

"**You're** late. What were you doing?" Without even turning around, he already knew it was Maeric, his mercenary partner for over many months already.

"Just did a bit of _looking_. Nothing you should be worrying about." He shrugged. "C'mon, we're expected in the Jarl's banquet."

Torguk did not answer in response.

"… We haven't received our reward yet."

Right then he stood up and headed towards his room.

Maeric threw in a chuckle as he shook his head back and forth. He trailed him from then on.

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Once they were dressed, they eagerly headed towards Understone Keep for the second time this day. This time, it was not for discussing matters of any importance, but to enjoy the festivities the Jarl had made just for the Imperial nation. It was the time to celebrate the taking of Fort Dunstad, which proved to be one of the great strategical territories of the Stormcloaks. With Fort Dunstad fallen in the hands of the Imperials, the Stormcloaks' boundaries were pushed behind the territory of Winterhold. Although it was just a small step towards the true goal of victory, it was a breather for the Imperials to finally dissolve the stalemate between the two factions.

And the celebration… Torguk wasn't at all fascinated.

He was never the type to deal with these kinds of things anyways, the festivities. He was really more of a lone wolf – rather, a lone Orc. He did not care about wars, politics, or any of the nonsense going around Skyrim. He was just trying to survive the harshness of it all.

It's not like he was greedy for money, it was a complete opposite of it actually; he rarely cares about anything. If money wasn't the sole medium of exchange for food, shelter, clothing and all the other necessities, he wouldn't have cared for it. But he did.

"It's something about his past." Maeric would often say to his fellow companions.

But Torguk was never the person to tell what became of him. Although, from the look on his eyes, it felt like he was buried in it. Regret, shame, or maybe something else. Maeric didn't want to pry though; he was never the type of person who listens anyways.

Torguk merely shook his contemplations away as he look at the moonlit sky.

_It's blue._

He had heard of this phrase before, "_Once in a blue moon."_ And it was explained to him by shamans of his clan days. He smirked at the realization that the phrase had nothing to do with the moons' color.

_When one of the moons is clearly lit in the sky, no shadows waning or waxing, and it appeared more than thrice in a season, it can be considered as a blue moon. Miracles often do happen in these events, and one should be weary of his surroundings to fully recognize them._

Or such as the saying goes.

Though he never heard of moons actually having a tinge of blue. Secunda (the smaller moon) was typically gray in nature, but somehow the lighting in the sky bore it a glowing blue color…

"You are one distracted Orc." Maeric voiced.

He then looked at Maeric in annoyance. Maeric wore his brown leathers and a tunic inside it. He had his flesh pants and a pair of grimy boots, so as his trend for casuals. It wasn't at all fancy, but it had to do. Unlike Torguk's clothing which was completely inappropriate. He only wore a white tunic (but very dirty) and brown pants and a tattered shoe, which made him look like the smelter he often visits in this town.

"I said, the soldiers will be inspecting metals on us. Do you have anything with you?" Maeric repeated the question that Torguk failed to hear.

"Yeah, two daggers about to be stabbed to your ass."

"Hah, I'd expect that coming." He sarcastically laughed. "C'mon, you know the drill."

Of course, Maeric had his daggers in his holster as well. They dismantled their own daggers (handmade) and the blade was tied to their thighs just almost close to their groin (as expected). The hilt was put into their pockets. They resembled mini-scrolls folded to bear no confusion to prying eyes…

They entered the palace with no trouble whatsoever. Of course, the people were already bustling about, spending the night away with their delight. Banners with Imperial crest and decorations hung about in the air. The flames flickering created a light atmosphere in the air, even if some corners were darkened by the shadows.

People were enjoying themselves with mead, food and chatting, much to the Aldmeri Elves' resent to the idea hosting a party such as this. One could look into their eyes and see a hint of disappointment to the Jarl while he was sitting on the throne and entertaining his guests. There was a band of bards that came all the way from Solitude that played music in the entirety of the Keep. Lutes, drums and harps were played harmonically to fit the upbeat mood of the people.

"Torguk, there's a seat over there." He pointed out. Not only there were added stone tables and chairs, but there were wooden ones as well, in storage, just for an event such as this. They approached a table in one of the corners of the hall, where the shadows almost covered them, as few blazes of the torch were not enough to light the area up.

As soon as they sat, a waitress was already accounted for. They were given free drinks already paid for by the Jarl.

"So, what's next for the high and mighty Torguk?" Maeric prompted a conversation as he casually sipped a drink in his tankard. "I guess you're planning to go back to Riften afterwards?"

"Yes. Maybe."

"Ah, then we'll be on separate ways then. I've heard a post from the Whiterun's Jarl hiring mercenaries like us as soldiers for the Imperial banner. Wouldn't that be interesting?"

Torguk merely listened as he prodded on to his conversation.

"… I mean, we could be doing something good, for once. Something for a change. I don't know if they take Nords as soldiers, but I really don't care."

"You mean **you **could do something good… for once."

"Oh, so you don't like to join then? That's too bad." He slouched.

And again the Orsimer didn't supply any words to spare.

The minutes flew by as they continued their own senseless chatting, mostly about them going their separate ways and Maeric doing almost all the talking. Consider that they've been partners for months already, but they weren't the permanent kind. Most mercenary groups were like that. Depending on their jobs, most cases were they wouldn't stick around staying in just one place. More often than not, after their jobs, the people would disband in a snap of a finger, looking for other places where septims wait for them.

No sooner, the Jarl called the attention of everybody and the place quieted.

"It is with great pleasure that everyone had gathered here for this precious day. The Stormcloaks had suffered a terrible loss in their men and their lands, which brings us a step closer to our ultimate goal…"

_Hear! Hear!_

_For the Empire!_

_All hail The Emperor!_

The crowd jeered.

"… Today marks the important stepping stone, as to what will become of the future – _our_ future together for Skyrim…"

"It was in this day that we reclaimed our lands from the traitors and the Traitor King himself."

_Aye to that!_

_Cheers for Jarl Igmund!_

"The peace treaty has ended! Alduin is slain! Next, we bring Skyrim back to once was!" Jarl Igmund's voice boomed the halls of Underkeep.

The crowd hollered, cheered, clapped and even tapped their tankards to their tables.

"But tonight, we celebrate…"

The crowd slowly faded into silence. The shouts became talks, and then became murmurs; then suddenly. Silence.

"We celebrate the men and women who braved the Fort and survived the ordeal…" His voice was low, but it was enough so that everyone could still here him.

"… We also celebrate all the heroes that spent their lives in the battlefield, fighting for our cause. May Shor let them enter the great halls of Sovngarde and guide us to our victory…" He bowed silently prayed.

The people bowed with him. So did Maeric and Torguk, paying their respects for the ones that fell by the blades of war. After a few moments of silence, Jarl Igmund then held his head high and cried.

"For the Legion!"

The crowd cheered and clapped again with fierce enthusiasm. Though he wore a proud face it felt like he was burdened with something.

"And in commemoration for all the feats we've done so far, I've come to present to you people, my daughter, to play us a song that will play with our hearts for the night."

Everyone clapped and hollered as they called out for her.

_Jarl Igmund has a daughter? _Torguk was quite surprised.

As if on cue to his thoughts, a woman of beauty walked into the halls next to the bards.

Torguk stared.

She was wearing a white silken dress embroidered with floral patterns. She had chestnut brown hair, soft curls dangling freely just above her shoulders. Her skin was pale with just the amount of tan that complemented her complexion very well. Her rosy lips peeled as she whispered through the band. He couldn't see her eyes as it was covered by a mask, and the darkness dimmed his surroundings. The band lent her a harp and she smiled.

It was one of – no, _the_ brightest smiles he ever saw.

She sat on a wooden chair on the center aisle and fixed herself. Her attention shifted from person to person, gazing her audience thoroughly. It was evident that she felt anxious, but she brimmed with courage nonetheless. She lightly gripped the handle and started to cue the band.

The calming song started with the lute and the harp, a ballad of soft tunes combining in perfect balance. She closed her eyes and swayed to and fro to the rhythm of the song. Then she strung the harp in just the perfect melody…

_On this night the pale moon flies_

_Through the endless stormy skies_

_So hold me close_

_Feel the rhythm of my heart, echoing far_

_Take my hand_

_Lead me where to souls could soar_

_Oh… So far away and so near_

The harp's tune reverberated across the halls as she played so mellow and so peaceful. The whole keep was enticed by her song (and herself). She gazed among the crowd again. Torguk could've sworn she looked past his table, but he was sure that she didn't saw her. Her distance and the darkness wouldn't allow her to…

_I have seen your eyes before_

_In another life I've lived_

_In innocence_

_I imagined you could fly close to the stars_

_Here I am_

_Waiting for the moon to rise_

_Oh… so far away and so near_

After that, there was an instrumental combination of the lute and the harp, playing harmoniously together.

He felt his body stiffen as he riddled his thoughts with her. He barked out a grunting scowl as he pushed his tankard to his throat.

_It's not possible anyways_.

Leaving his attention, he noticed that he was alone in his table. Maeric was gone.

He sighed.

No sooner she continued with her singing. He couldn't understand the lyrics anymore as he was getting a bit tipsy from all the mug he'd drunk. Even if all of them had light alcohol, he may have consumed too much for his own.

It didn't matter though. No matter how much he'd drunk, he could still see her. She had a strange glow in her. She almost sounded slurred from his hearing, but her voice was actually soothing. It was after a few groggy moments that she stood up and bowed. He only realized then that the play was over. The crowd was clapping and hollering at her. She smiled so proudly at herself, her anxiety drowned away just by half of the song.

She sashayed along as she left the stage with noble grace; he noticed.

And by the Divines, he noticed.

* * *

An hour had gone to pass and he left the Understone to rest in Silver-Blood. The festivities were still ongoing but Torguk had just enough of it. He didn't belong there anyways.

_Maeric's gone for a long time,_ he noticed. It was around the middle of the woman's song that he disappeared and he had not gone back ever since. This made him quite suspicious, but he did not go beyond on finding out. It was really not in himself to meddle with the affairs of others.

_Maybe he had found a mistress_, and Divines know what would happen next.

He walked through alleyways, streets very narrow and buildings almost close together. He did not know where he was going, as his drunken state wouldn't allow him so. And yet, it felt like he knew the way all along.

Of course, things can still happen in an empty alleyway in the middle of the night. People already knew that. It was a very bad idea, and who knows what could happen to a person – alone – walking in those alleyways.

But he was not stupid. Reckless, but never stupid. Either way, he could handle himself in certain situations. But in retrospect, who could ever try to steal a drunken orc? Divines know it could be the end of him if he tries to do so.

But then he saw it.

Upon walking, he saw two shadowy figures in the night. The torches were really of no use as the lighting wasn't enough to show their faces. It looked like they also came from the Understone to celebrate the festivities.

They were talking, but he was around twelve steps away from them, so he couldn't hear properly what they were saying.

But somehow, it all felt wrong.

When he crossed them, their talking stopped. It was obvious that they wanted their privacy, and Torguk was no oaf to be underestimated.

His gaze seem to pass by those two again as he continued walking (but this time, at a slower pace). As he gained distance again, he hid behind a wall and attempted to overhear the conversation. He went by unnoticed. After a while, they continued their talking.

"What's taking them so long? The guards will become suspicious." One person said. He was clearly a Breton judging by his slightly smaller stature and light brown skin.

"We have to be patient." Another person replied. It was quite a few seconds until he heard two sets of footsteps and someone creating a muffled sound. "There they are now."

He took a peek.

He saw them.

Three Nords and a Breton shuffling away from the streets as they curved their way through the commons. One was carrying a woman in his shoulders.

She was struggling.

Her shouts were mere squeaks as cloth bands gagged her mouth and covered her wrists.

What the orc was really surprised of,

Maeric was with them.

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**A/N : Ohhh early cliffy. But yeah. I had to. Sorry. I'll have the next chapter done as soon as possible though. :D**

**Reviews, Messages, faves, follows are always welcome!**

**Thanks to the folks that followed and faved my story! I really appreciate the thought, guys! :D**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics and/or song Amelia sung in this chapter. All the credits goes to the wonderful celtic folk-singer, Erutan. Her YouTube page is katethegreat19 or you could just type in Erutan too. The music is entitled "So Far Away And So Near", check it out in her bandcamp page from the album Raindancer if you have the time. Also, the song themes I had in mind with what the band was playing in this chapter also comes from Erutan's new instrumental-only album, Court of Leaves. you could listen to it also at Erutan's bandcamp page.**


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